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farfaras · 11 months

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Steddie week. Day 7: Free space. 2.1k words. Ao3 link.

@steddie-week

I’m late but I really wanted to finish the week. So here it is! The last one!

“What’s Eddie short for?” Steve asked Robin. They were on their break, now working at a record store after they got fired from Family Video for missing work too much.

“Why are you asking me?” She shot back. Steve simply shrugged. It honestly just occurred to him that he didn’t actually know if that was Eddie’s name or if it was a nickname.

“I was just thinking about it. You don’t know?”

“I have absolutely no idea.” That was disappointing. Robin seemed to be getting along with Eddie. Maybe they’re not that close. Would Dustin know? “You know, I think I asked him once.”

“Really? And what did he say?” She should’ve mentioned this first!

“I think he just started laughing and then deflected. Never answered me.” She stood up. They had to go back to work already. It was slow today, not much customers around so they kept chatting. “Why did you ask?”

“I don’t know.” Steve really was just curious. “We’ve all been friends for a while and I just realized we don’t actually know if ‘Eddie’ is short for anything.”

“He actually seems like the type of person to just be called ‘Eddie’. Like just ‘Eddie’, full stop.” Even if that’d be funny, it’s probably not it. “Anyway, just ask him.”

“Is that not weird?” He wondered.

“I asked him. He just didn’t tell me. Maybe you’d have more luck.” She smirked and it looked like she knew something he didn’t.

Steve narrowed his eyes. “Maybe I will.”

“You’re the one who wants to know.”

“Do you think he didn’t tell you because the name’s embarrassing or something?”

“He’s done so much embarrassing stuff, his name can’t be that bad.”

—

The next time he saw Eddie was when they were playing DnD, at Steve’s house. For some reason Eddie managed to convince Steve that hosting their nerd game was a good idea. He was sure it was his puppy dog eyes. Steve was not immune to those. Robin took advantage of that, constantly.

Steve almost forgot that he was gonna ask Eddie, it was when everyone left and it was just the two of them that Steve remembered the question he had been meaning to ask.

“Hey, Eddie.” He called out to catch his attention.

“Yeah?” They sat down on the couch after cleaning up.

“Is your name short for anything?”

He did exactly what Robin said he did when she asked him. He just started laughing, out of nowhere. Steve didn’t understand what was so funny.

When Eddie stopped laughing, he let out a sigh. “Anyway, what movies do you have?”

“Wha– you’re changing the subject! Why?” Steve was starting to get suspicious now.

“Why do you ask, Steve?” Eddie looked at him.

“I was just curious.” It’s true, Steve was curious. But now it felt like his name was actually something embarrassing, because why else would he avoid answering it in the first place.

“Sureee.” Eddie did not believe him. “To answer your question. Yes, my name is short for something.” Steve figured.

“What is it?” It couldn’t be bad. Steve only knew a handful of names that could be nicknamed Eddie, and those weren’t that bad.

“Ha! I’m not telling you that.” Eddie joyfully replied.

“What– why not?”

“I have to keep the mystery going.” He explained, tone completely serious.

“You’re not mysterious.” Steve deadpanned.

“Shut up, I so am.” Eddie bit back.

“It takes like, one conversation with you to know that you’re not mysterious.” Steve said. It was true, Eddie might have the intimidating look going on, but it was easy to overlook it as soon as he opened his mouth.

Eddie glares at him. “Are you done?”

“You still haven’t answered!”

“‘Cuz I’m not gonna.” Eddie grinned, he was just enjoying having something that Steve wanted to know. “Maybe you can guess.”

“Ugh” Steve fell further into the couch. “I don’t feel like it.”

“Just because I’m a generous and giving person,” Steve perked, he didn’t know why he wanted to know so badly. Maybe so he could use it whenever he wanted to scold him like one of the kids. “I’ll make you a deal.” Disappointed, Steve sighed.

“What’s the deal?” He asked.

“If you guess it,” Eddie put his hand on his chin. “I’ll give you something, anything you want.”

“What? Like a prize for guessing your name?” Steve scoffed. “What am I? A dog?”

“So you don’t want anything?”

“That’s not what I said.” Steve had a feeling that making a deal with Eddie was like making a wish to a genie. Eh, he would still get something out of it. “Whatever, sure. It’s a deal.” He just had to start guessing, until he got it. Shouldn’t be that hard.

“If you say so.”

“Is it Edward?” He gave his first guess.

“Well, that’d be too obvious.” Steve still waited for an actual response. Eddie rolled his eyes. “No, it’s not. Close, though.”

“Edison?”

“I’m so grateful it isn’t Edison.”

“Edmund?

“Oh god, they keep getting worse.”

“Yes or no?”

“No! Why would you think my name is Edmund? Do I look like an Edmund to you?” Eddie asked, scandalized.

Steve stayed quiet. “You want me to answer that?”

“Actually, let’s just watch a movie. That’s enough guesses for today.” Eddie went to shuffle through their options.

“I just started!” Steve protested. He should’ve known Eddie wasn’t gonna make it easy for him.

“I don’t feel like answering more. Try again later.”

Steve crossed his arms and pouted. When Eddie looked back at him, Steve stuck his tongue out, like a toddler. Eddie chuckled.

–

“Edwin?”

Eddie gave him a thumbs down.

–

“Edgar?”

Eddie spelled “no” with his fries. He proudly showed them to Steve.

Steve ate them.

–

“Edrian!”

“Where’d you even come up with that one?”

“I heard it somewhere.”

“Well, that’s not it.”

–

“Is it, like, just Ed or something?”

“Life would be easier.” Eddie dreamily looked to the sky. “So, no, it’s not.”

–

“I’m like, out of ideas, Robin.” Steve didn’t know whether to give up or look in the library.

“Maybe you need to look for obscure names, like really weird ones.” Robin made some hand gestures that he didn’t really know what they entailed.

—

“Can I get a hint?” Steve gave it his best shot at puppy dog eyes, he had big eyes, right?

Eddie wasn’t looking straight at him, he took one glance for like half a second and then decided to look forward. “I already did.”

“No.” He furrowed his eyebrows. “When?”

“With your first guess. I don’t think you need anything else.”

Steve let out a frustrated groan.

—

At the end, he didn’t guess shit.

Steve was dropping by some cookies he made, they were Eddie’s favorite. Steve wanted to improve some skills in the baking department, it was a win win. He got practice, Eddie got cookies. It didn’t mean anything else.

The government gave the Munsons a house after everything, it was on the outskirts of town. When he pulled up, he noticed that a letter had fallen down from the mailbox. When he picked it up he saw who it was addressed to.

Eduardo Munson.

There was no way.

Steve ran so fast his head almost clashed with the door. He knocked frantically. Eddie opened the door, Steve didn’t even wait to be invited in. He ran to the kitchen to set the cookies on the counter and raced back to where Eddie was.

“Your name is Eduardo?”

Eddie’s eyes widened. “How’d you find that out?”

Steve just handed him the letter he found on the floor. Eddie’s mouth formed an ‘O’, but he didn’t say anything.

“Well?” Steve crossed his arms.

“I guess now you know.” Eddie opened the letter to read it, he made his way to the couch and sat down. Steve followed.

“Is that why you said I was close with the name Edward?” Steve didn’t know anyone named Eduardo. Well, he thought he didn’t.

“Eduardo is basically the same name, but in Spanish.” Eddie, no, Eduardo nodded.

“Why– who decided that was gonna be your name?” Did his parents just like Spanish, or something? Steve thought. He obviously didn’t say it.

“My mom. She was Mexican. This letter is from my grandma.”

“Oh. Is it…” Steve didn’t actually know where he was going with that.

“Most of my mom’s side lives in cali, or Mexico.”

Eddie had the letter opened on his lap, Steve peeked. He didn’t want to pry, it was just a quick glance. Even if he wanted to read anything though, he couldn’t.

“That is, fully in Spanish.” His face was a mix of confusion and shock.

“Uh huh.” Eddie was holding back laughter. “What about it?”

“You speak Spanish?!” At this point, he didn’t even care if he was being loud.

“My grandma calls me regularly, like, once a month. She doesn’t speak an ounce of English.” Eddie’s face was fond. That shouldn’t be as cute as it was.

Steve’s jaw was on the floor. Never once did he expect to learn all of this just because he wanted to know if the name “Eddie” was actually short for another name. Eddie reached out and closed his mouth. Steve took some time to get himself back together. He collected the cookies and brought them back for Eddie.

“So, I didn’t guess.”

“No.”

Steve sighed, forlorn. “So, deal’s off, I guess.”

“Mmhm.” Eddie was concentrating on the letter in front of him. Steve slapped his arm. “What was that for?”

“You can read that later. I brought you cookies.”

Eddie snatched them, he started almost inhaling them. Jesus Christ. “These are great.”

“Thanks.” Steve blushed.

After that they were content to just hang out, doing whatever. Eddie told him more about his mom’s side of the family. There were a lot of family members that Steve couldn’t keep track of. He talked more with his grandma, aunts and uncle. Steve found out that his mom taught him Spanish when he was little. When she died, and his dad ended up in prison, his closer relative was Wayne so he moved in with him. His mom’s family always kept in touch, though. The last time his grandma visited was before Christmas in 1985.

“Say something in Spanish.” Steve was surprised with himself for asking that. Where did that come from?

“What am I? Your personal clown?”

“Shut up.” He rolled his eyes. “It just hasn’t registered in my brain fully, that you speak Spanish. Maybe I have to hear it.” Steve tried. It was a cheap attempt at just wanting to hear it.

“What do you want me to say?” Eddie replied. Was he actually gonna do it?

“I don’t know.” Steve shrugged. An idea came to him, he straightened up. “What about the way your grandma greets you on the phone, or the way you answer?”

Eddie scrunched up his nose. Cute. “Ugh… she’s so mushy.”

“Now I have to hear it.” Steve clasped his hands together, battling his eyelashes.

Eddie just accepted defeat. “Fine!” He was now avoiding Steve’s eyes. “Whenever she calls she always starts with something like ‘¿Cómo está mi niño hermoso?’ Or she’d call me ‘mi vida’, or ‘mi cielo’. Honestly she calls me a lot of things.” Steve had no idea what that was, nor what it meant. But his eyes never left Eddie’s lips, not once. Hearing that was doing things to Steve. He suddenly felt hot.

“What does it mean?”

Eddie flushed red. He turned to Steve, eyes deadly serious. “You don’t wanna know.”

“Oh, but I really do.” Eddie shook his head no. “You have to tell me or else I’m just gonna start calling you that.” Eddie’s face was so funny, he looked scandalized at the possibility. “What was it again? Cie- cielo?”

Eddie swung his hands and arms around. “Stop! Don’t you dare continue.” Steve mimed zipping his mouth. “If you must know. She just asks how I am and she calls me her boy and other pet names.”

Steve narrowed his eyes, assessing him. “Is that the truth?” Eddie nodded. “I’ll accept that, for now.”

They spent the rest of the day watching tv. By the time Steve was leaving the sun was already setting. Eddie walked him to the door.

“What would you have asked for?” Eddie blurted. “If you had guessed my name.”

Steve glanced down at Eddie’s lips for the second time that day. He looked up at Eddie, even if they were almost the same height. Steve shrugged one shoulder. “I’m sure I would’ve come up with something.”

Steve leaned in and placed a quick kiss on Eddie’s cheek.

“See you, Eduardo.”

He stepped outside and walked to his car. He heard a loud thumping noise coming from inside the house and chuckled to himself.

–

Bonus:

Steve: he speaks Spanish, Robin!

Robin: I heard you the first time, dingus.

Steve: I don’t think you understand the severity of the situation.

Robin: *blank stare*

Steve: I can’t believe I have to date him.

Robin: you don’t have to.

Steve: no, no. I’m gonna.

#steddie #steddieweek2023 #steddieweekprompts #eddie x steve #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #mexican eddie munson #latino eddie munson #he’s Mexican bc I’m Mexican and I said so #robin buckley #stranger things #stranger things 4 #pre relationship #pre slash #mer writes sometimes #ficlet

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teencopandthesourwolf · 7 months

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Oh my God.

Their faces are suddenly so close. Like, so very, very close.

Stiles tries to tamper down his nerves (completely unsuccessfully, of fucking course) by taking a much-needed breath.

He then stammers out the words, "I've, uh, I've, I've never, um—"

Calm. The fuck. Down.

"It's the same as it is with a girl, Stiles," Derek says, all matter-of-factly as if they're not just about to kiss.

Holy fucking shit!

"Just… hairier," the big guy adds.

Stiles wets his lips and nods and states, “Because you're a boy," oh, so intelligently. "I mean, y'know..."

Gulp!

"A m-man."

One of Derek's thick eyebrows slowly climbs his forehead, face looking as if the haughty display should be taken as some sort of admonishment and it is so fucking hot that Stiles's ridiculous dick jumps for joy inside of his khakis.

Traitor.

"Actually, I'm neither," says the dude who would put any of the Greek Gods to shame and he flashes that rare, toothy, wicked-sexy smile.

Fuck!

Then Derek shifts and growls, "I'm a werewolf," before licking the gasp right out of Stiles's mouth.

for @greyhavenisback (and now i really must try and go back to sleep, zoiks!)

#for kate with love ❤️#sterek #sterek drabble #sterek one shot #sterek fic #POV stiles #stiles stilinski #derek hale #teen wolf #teen wolf fic #pre slash #lemons #tcats writes #teencopandthesourwolf

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sunnysideprincess · 2 months

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There is no one coming for Tony Stark, he gets that early enough.

Seven and being fed lines at gunpoint. Rescue doesn't come for days until the kidnappers grow sick of his weeping and leave him alone, giving him enough time to wiggle his way out through the vents.

Fourteen and sporting a broken limb, face marked black and blue. The man with a hook for right hand listens to Howard Stark's "we don't negotiate with terrorists" speech and comes back with a meat cutter, only to find a rigged smoke bomb and a vindictive teenager with a makeshift taser.

Twenty-one and Ty's filming him, his moaning and crying and the press has a field day dissecting the whore of a man the Stark heir has become.

Twenty-two and there's a bottle, or seven, and needles going into his arm, a broken piano and a shattered will. Tony Stark is a broken man.

But nobody comes.

Thirty-nine and he's under water, a hole in his chest and a car battery that's keeping his heart ticking. There's him and a dying old man. There's him and the suit and a torch of vengeance he carries out to the desert.

Forty and he has a time bomb in his chest—

Nobody comes.

He knows this.

Nobody ever comes.

Tony Stark is destined to die alone.

Forty-five and trapped inside a bunker, cold and frozen, held at gunpoint by wayward scientists and soldiers. His suit of armor is scrap metal. The numbness crawling over his chest.

Nobody's gonna come.

Rhodey's not awake.

Pepper's not aware.

Vision...

Nobody's coming on time.

Except, there's a knife and a scream and the blinds are ripped from his eyes with ferocious gentleness. There's ice and cold and storm-weathered eyes peering into his soul.

"How bad," Barnes asks him. But all Tony sees is a blood-soaked knife and scattered bodies. All he sees is Barnes and his bleeding rage coiled tight around his shoulders and Tony is a broken clock. He doesn't know what day it is. He can't guess because Barnes looks just the same as the day he last saw him.

"How long?"

"Too long," he hears when he stumbles into his rescuer's hold, shivering and weightless, disoriented and so, so confused.

Nobody should have come. Yet outside, there's an army. Slaughtered and thrown about. And Barnes walks unhurried, his arms secure around his cargo. A predator carrying his trophy for the hunt.

Nobody's supposed to come. But Barnes did.

Tony wonders why.

#tony stark #bucky barnes #pre winteriron #deb writes in between #post cacw #tw: child abuse #tw: drugs #pre slash #winteriron #starbucks #buckytony #fic #ficlet #mcu

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kimwarris · 7 months

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AU where Zuko joins the GAang after Azula attacked Iroh when they all cornered her in that abandoned Earth Kingdom town (Episode “The Chase”). Zuko yells at Katara to leave them alone, but Sokka reasons with him that it’s a bad idea with Azula and her friends still on the run, without supplies or shelter and Zuko obviously having no idea how to treat Iroh’s injury.

He notices that Zuko looks quite like a shadow of his former self - skinny and pale and as if he’d break into tears any minute. He also got rid of this stupid ponytail – short, dark hair covers his head now. He looks just human and that doesn’t sit right with Sokka, because it makes him feel sorry for Zuko.

Plus, the enemy of my enemy… it’s just logical to offer help to Zuko and Iroh, he reasons with himself.

They find a hide-out for the night and Zuko doesn’t leave Katara out of his sight, while she does her healing session. Iroh doesn’t awake right away, but Sokka reassures him several times that everything will be fine and that Katara would never pretend to heal somebody and then hurt them.

Zuko offers to do the first watch. They don’t light a fire, because even though they brought some distance between themselves and that abandoned town neither of them wants to risk being found by Azula again.

It’s quite a chilly night and it occurs to Sokka that firebenders thrive with warmth and the sun, so he comes to the conclusion that Zuko must be horribly cold. Sokka himself is not so bothered by the cool air - he grew up at the South Pole, he is used to the cold. But he doesn’t want to be held responsible for Zuko catching a cold and the former prince looks like he’s been through hell and back. Plus, the firebender pulled his knees close to his body and wrapped his arms around them. Zuko is not shaking, but to Sokka it’s obvious that he’s not doing well. It’s not going to be pleasant, but Sokka makes a decision. Zuko needs the blanket more than he does.

So Sokka gets up and walks over to Zuko holding the blanket out to him.

“Here, you must be cold.”

Zuko stares at him in complete disbelief.

“Uhm… are you serious?”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t make a fuss. You’re a firebender, you need to stay warm.”

“I’m a firebender. I don’t need a blanket to keep myself warm.”

Visible confusion shows on Sokka’s face and he feels like he’s just made a fool of himself in front of Zuko.

“But I thought…”

Zuko takes a deep breath and when he exhales a little flame comes out of his mouth.

Sokka thinks he’s never seen anything this hot in his entire life.

#zukka #zukka au #zukka fanfic #atla fanfiction #zukka nation #zukka incorrect quotes #zukka fic idea #sokka being confused about how firebenders work #pre slash #sorry not sorry

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metalhoops · 1 year

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Remember this post?

They were in the belly of the beast.

The Creel House stood resolute, tinged the colour of a freshly heal wound, reopened. The same sickly red stain of The Upside Down sky, brown boards blue-hued from strange smokes and cinder. Part of Eddie felt like he’d seen the house before, in some half-remembered nightmare. Deep in the back of his brain, where all strange primal fears were housed, there was a spot saved for the decaying manner.

By all rights, Eddie shouldn’t have been in the house. If they’d followed the original plan, he’d have been on the roof of the trailer. It’d been Wheeler, of all people who’d changed things. She was a smart girl, too damn smart for her own good in Eddie’s opinion. She’d pointed out all the ways their plan could go wrong and as much as Eddie wanted to redeem the Munson name, he didn’t want to walk into a death trap if he could help it.

Nancy was right. That didn’t change the creeping sense of dread he felt whenever he looked her way. It was like one of Vecna’s vines had made a home in his stomach and was creeping up towards his mouth each time the girl did something impressive. Eddie had the sneaking suspicion something was swaying his feelings towards her. Something with light brown hair, who had entered the Creel house brandishing a baseball bat like a medieval sword.

Jesus H. Christ. Seeing Steve Harrington wield the tetanus trap of a baseball bat, full of splintering wood and rusted nails wasn’t a sight he’d ever pictured living to see.

Drifting in from the wasteland beyond the open door, Eddie could hear his amps playing ‘Master of Puppets’ on the boom box they’d borrowed from the Harringtons’. The poor little player had never gotten the taste for good music. Eddie had to admit it was a good idea.

He, Steve and Dustin set up the trap. Once the bats began to swarm the trailer the two older boys boosted Dustin up and out of the portal, much to the kid’s protest. They then snuck around the back of the trailer, while the girls waited in the woods ahead. Nancy had her sawn-off trained on the swarm. Robin had her Molotovs. Range weapons, waiting in the wings. He and Steve were the best at evasion. If this were a campaign, he’d say they made a pretty balanced party, all things considered.

The interior of the house was worse than Eddie expected. It was filled with rotted vines and ash, making the air smell of must and mildew. Eddie’s brain kept telling him to turn tail and run, but he wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

He shifted his shield from one hand to the next as they moved deeper into the house, channelling his nervous energy away from his feet. One misstep and their distraction would be for nothing. Their plan was a house of cards. One gust of wind and the whole damn thing would blow over. If Eddie screwed up Red, along with everyone else in the Creel house, would be dead before the world had time to end.

Steve took the lead up the stairs like Eddie knew he would. He had a hero complex Eddie couldn’t unpick. Once everything was over, he had questions about what the party had seen the last three times they’d decided to dance with the devil in the pale moonlight. There was something about Steve Harrington he couldn’t put his finger on. Sure, trauma could change a person, Eddie was learning that lesson the hard way, but the man charging up the stairs towards their inevitable death in too-tight pants and an army jacket had some explaining to do.

He wasn’t sure who’d done it in the end. Whose foot made first contact with the blackened tendrils, the dominos fell too fast to pinpoint an epicentre. Nancy's body jerked one way, while Steve was sent skyward. His back hit the walls of the house with a sickly wet thud, a mass of undulating vines threatening to swallow him whole. Robin was on the floor at the foot of the steps, hacking away at the vines with an axe. Eddie was pushed against the bannister, all the air fleeing his lungs. This was how he would die.

The sound of distant wings grew ever louder as Eddie’s vision began to blacken around the edges.

In Eddie’s fading vision, he watched as a sliver of light glinted off something overhead. The axe fell like a guillotine, too close to Eddie’s head for comfort. He was free. He took greedy gulps of air, his eyes making contact with Buckley’s. She looked as shocked as he did, like a nocturnal animal caught in floodlights.

They didn’t have time. Robin was off, desperately hacking skywards at the vines still ensnaring Steve. He’d managed to wedge the bat between the vine and his throat. Rusted nails dug deeper into the black mass as it attempted to constrict, but it also buried the nails deeper into Steve’s flesh.

Eddie ran to help Nancy, her lips blue as her fingers blindly grasped for the shotgun that’d landed just out of reach. Nancy was smart, but like all people, the fear of death made her dumb. A bullet to the jugular wasn’t going to fix this.

Eddie tried to slide his fingers between the vine and her throat, to relieve some of the pressure. His fingers kept slipping, sticky with sap or blood. He didn’t know. He wished he had a knife as he tried to untangle the vines from ensnaring her body. There was nothing more he could do. He had to sit and wait as he felt the fight begin to fade from her convulsing body. He listened distantly to Robin’s slew of curses as she hacked at drywall. For each vine cut from Steve’s body, there was another waiting to ensnare him.

Life-or-death situations had a strange way of bringing one's true feelings to the surface. Eddie crouched beside Nancy, his hand clawing at the vine encircling her throat, watching as her panic-ridden eyes flickered across his face. He noticed her hand twitching up trying to pry the vine from its hold on her throat and Eddie’s arm. She was so weak he hadn’t noticed her attempt. He ran a thumb absentmindedly back and forth across her knuckles, trying to soothe her.

“Hey, no. Hey. You’re fine, Wheeler. You’re okay. Slow breaths, alright? You’ve got this,” he muttered hating how uncertain he sounded, how strained his voice was.

He didn’t hate Nancy. He’d hate himself if he let Steve’s chance of a storybook ending die in his arms but Christ that was a lot of pressure.

He crouched there until his fingers turned white and an axe descended upon the vines, cutting them both free. Wheeler gasped, taking deep shaky breaths as she squeezed Eddie’s hand, locking eyes with Buckley over his shoulder. She schooled her features when Steve came into view. His throat wept blood but he was upright, which was more than Eddie could’ve hoped for.

The vines began to retreat for a reason they couldn’t discern. The group rushed to the second-floor landing, as the swarm of bats descended upon the house, rushing in through the open door. Eddie watched as something shifted in Steve’s stance. He twisted the baseball bat in his hands, familiarising himself with the weapon before taking a few practice swings.

“Keep going. I’ll hold ‘em off,” Steve spoke.

Eddie knew it wasn’t a good plan. He knew what happened to the people who stayed behind. Steve had warned him about playing the hero. Eddie wasn’t going to let him have all the fun.

He held his shield aloft in front of himself, trying to see how much of his body he could brace behind it. If this were a campaign, Eddie knew fighting something that nasty on your own would be akin to a death sentence.

“I’m staying. Even the odds,” Eddie spoke, as though two boys fresh off the heels of adolescence taking on a swarm of hundreds of unearthly horrors was in any way shape or form, even. They just had to hold them off until Vecna was dead. The hellscape couldn’t survive without him. Cut off the head and the rest would follow.

If they had more time, maybe things would’ve gone differently. Maybe they would’ve come up with a better plan, but there was no time. Robin looked poised for an argument or a thought-out speech but Nancy cocked the shotgun and dragged her forward. She knew the silent promise that came with goodbyes.

The boys were faced with a black mass of writhing wings. They found a rhythm with ease. Steve swung his bat in a perfect arch, sending any unfortunate hell spawn in its wake flying into Eddie’s waiting shield, empaled on the jagged nails.

Eddie was surprised at how easy it was to find something akin to peace at that moment. He and Steve knew how to move around each other, and how to anticipate each other. They watched the other’s back and oftentimes found themselves back-to-back. Steve’s broad shoulders were grounding where they pressed into Eddie’s. It was the world's strangest game of baseball. With Steve at his side, the horror of the moment seemed to fall away.

They worked better together than Eddie could’ve imagined and lasted longer than he’d thought. Yet, they couldn’t hold out much longer. The room smelled of rotted iron and Eddie’s sides throbbed. He was too hopped up on adrenaline for the seriousness of the situation to take hold, but one look at Steve in his periphery let him know they were both in bad shape.

The boy was covered in blood. The wound in his side was torn open once more. Someone could trace their movement by the bloody footprints littering the floor.

They were dying.

Eddie tried not to let the enormity of the situation swallow him whole.

“Hey? How’s it going in there? You killin’ the son of a bitch or just admiring the view?” Eddie screamed above the beating of wings. When a response didn’t come, Steve and Eddie exchanged worried looks.

“Rob?” Steve yelled, casting a glance through the doorway.

The moment of distraction left him wide open for a bat to swoop, wrapping its twisted tail around Steve’s arm and tugging him upwards. Eddie acted fast, grabbing Steve’s ankle, and pulling him back to the relative safety of the rotting boards, bloated and warping from the mingling blood and black, bat ooze.

“I can’t find the lighter,” Robin’s voice called at last. It must have fallen from her pocket when the vines attacked. Shit.

Eddie plunged his hands into the depths of his jacket pocket and thanked the god he didn’t believe in for his habit of chain smoking in times of crisis. He’d brought another lighter.

“Watch my six Stevie, I’ve got one,” Eddie called, rushing into the room leaving no space to argue.

Nancy had slung the rifle over her shoulder and had taken Robin’s axe, making short work of the few bats that’d managed to sneak past his and Steve’s defences.

Eddie ran to Robin’s side, noticing how the girl’s eyes swelled at seeing him. He was definitely in bad shape then. Her hands trembled as she held out the bottle. Time and time again, Eddie tried to light the cloth. It wasn’t working.

Nothing was working. Panic finally took hold of Eddie. They were going to die. He wished he could say he made peace with that knowledge, but he couldn’t.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Eddie mumbled as the lighter continued to dull and spark.

“What’s going on? I’m coming in,” Steve yelled as he appeared in the doorway barring the opening as best he could, trying to hold the flimsy wood as it buckled beneath the bats' weights.

Steve’s eyes shifted over the scene, assessing the situation within seconds.

He charged forward, taking the bottle from Robin’s hands, and letting the rag fall to the floor.

“Nancy, get ready to shoot,” Steve called as he stalked closer to Vecna’s dangling body. A look passed between the two. The glance told Nancy everything she needed to know.

“Eds, lighter,” Steve called over his shoulder extending his hand. Eddie blinked, tossing it to Steve.

Eddie would remember what happened next for the rest of his life. Whether that life lasted for minutes or decades, it didn’t matter. There was no such thing as a perfect moment, but what followed was as close as they could come.

Steve took a deep swig of vodka, filling his cheeks with the bitter liquid and held Eddie’s lighter aloft, the small flame illuminating Steve’s features, a final spark of warmth amongst the blue-grey walls and ash of the house. His hands dripped blood, what was left of his skin was pale from the loss of it.

Steve spat the alcohol in a perfect arc, through the flame, breathing fire over Vecna’s body, catching the dark wizard alight. Steve was a fallen king turned dragon. A higher kind of nobility. Breathtaking, unearthly, and dangerous.

As Nancy littered Vecna’s body with bullets, Eddie kept his eyes trained on Steve, his heart in his throat. Eddie wasn’t one for sudden affections. His heart was an alley cat, wary and distrustful by nature. Yet, despite everything, Eddie fell in love with Steve at that moment. His heart soared straight past ‘crush’ and on through to adoration. Maybe it was the blood loss but with Vecna’s dead body on the floor at their feet, he knew at that moment, his life would be inextricably connected to Steve’s.

The boy shot him a smile over his shoulder, his lip bloody, vodka smattering his chin. The room smelled of kindling.

The girls rushed to Steve, taking turns embracing him. The sound of bats at the door had finally stopped. It was over. They’d won.

Eddie watched on helplessly as Steve rested his forehead against Robin’s, holding the girl close, his face contorting in pain. Robin muttered a string of incoherent words just loud enough for Steve to hear before pulling back.

Nancy was next. Their hug was less feverish, more familiar. Nancy’s chin rested on Steve’s shoulder and Steve’s hands gripped the back of her shirt as they had a hundred times before. They looked good together. It made Eddie ache. He looked away.

When he looked back, to his surprise Robin had scooped Nancy into a too-tight hug, blathering about how petrified she’d been and how amazing Nancy was. Much to his surprise, Steve was looking at him, his arms open in offering.

The others were close. They had gone through hell together. Eddie was the outsider. It felt strange being offered a place amongst them, but he didn’t know when he’d get another opportunity, so he strode forward letting Steve’s arms encircle his body.

It wasn’t the kind of hug he’d expected. It wasn’t feverish, like Robin’s or as solid and steadfast as Nancy’s. Steve clung to him, his hands gripped at Eddie’s forearms, as though trying to map out the uncharted territory before pulling him closer. His hands snaked around Eddie’s body, finally finding a home, clutching at the shirt fabric around his shoulder blades.

Eddie didn’t know what to do with his hands, finding them slipping beneath Steve’s jacket, just above his waist. His head found its way to Steve’s shoulder and Steve’s did the same. He could feel the boy’s heart pounding. He smelled of sweat, blood, and alcohol.

“You’re a total badass, Steve Harrington.” Eddie gasped. His breath was hot against Steve’s ear. The boy chuckled, causing a shiver to run up his spine.

“I don’t know, Munson. That’s high praise comin’ from a hero,” Steve spoke.

“I’m not-,” Eddie began, but Steve wasn’t having it.

“Take a compliment dude. You went to Mordor,” Steve spoke in the tone of a man who still didn’t know exactly what ‘Mordor’ was.

Hawkins’ golden boy, trying to ‘speak nerd’ to him wasn’t quelling any of Eddie’s feelings.

“Yeah well, next time we go somewhere let’s make it nice. Check out The Rockies, The Grand Canyon, maybe California.”

Later Eddie would blame the blood loss for being so bold.

Steve pulled back, just far enough to look at Eddie’s face. To his surprise, Steve shot him a goofy grin.

“I like the sound of that.”

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ladderofyears · 1 year

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Stutter.

Teenage Draco hadn’t really accepted he was gay until he witnessed Harry Potter after Quidditch training wearing only underwear. Harry’s skin was golden, muscular, and hairy.

Draco stuttered and stammered, embarrassed at his powerful reaction. That night, as he lay in his narrow bed, Draco couldn’t think about anything else.

Fifty words.

For @microficmay

#drarry #harry x draco #fifty words #microficmay2023 #draco malfoy #pre slash #secret crush #hairy harry

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hilsonrecsmd · 1 month

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Oblivious

by alivehawk1701

gen | comp. | 5k ; pre-slash

Summary: Wilson might not be as aware of how his relationship with House looks like to others, but he might be starting to . . . a day in the life fic from Wilson's POV.

“Wilson,” House said from over Wilson’s right shoulder, “It doesn’t matter what people think, it only matters what you think, what you feel. I don’t want to force you to do anything. I just—” he stopped, jaw clamping shut. By the time House spoke again Wilson was about ready to storm out of the kitchen but he did, eventually saying, “I was waiting for you.” Wilson looked over his shoulder at House. “I’d already eaten,” House continued, “I was waiting for you anyway. Okay?” he shifted his leg under him, “When you’re here–it’s just us. When you’re here it’s better,” he looked up hesitantly, “For me anyway.”

reccer's note: wilson is such a pushover (affectionate) for house and i love it. an interesting take on how others view hilson's friendship and how they view it themselves

#house md #hilson #greg house #james wilson #hilson fic recs #hilsonrecsmd recs #general #alivehawk1701 #>5k #2007 #pre slash #ft ducklings #ft cuddy #codependent #caring!wilson #wilson pov #ao3

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kotana-x · 7 months

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Supernatural teen!AU

teenagers Crowley and Castiel

A very convenient position for asking what your geometry homework was.

#crowstiel #teenagers #spn #crowley supernatural #castiel supernatural #art #sketches #crowley #traditional art #my art #pre slash #supernatural #castiel #teen!au

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guys-im-literally-spiderman · 2 months

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Recovering is incredibly boring.

Eddie’s been out of the hospital for what must have been years–but Steve assures him it is more like 9 days–and he is absolutely out of things to do.

At first the novelty of being in the harrington mansion, an arrangement made because his fucking house was split in facking half, was enough to keep him entertained. While Steve was out volunteering like the martyr he is, Eddie would mindlessly wander from huge room to insanely more huge room. He picked up every terrifyingly expensive and useless object he could, and stared into every soulless room until he physically could not any longer (which was often, because you know he almost fucking died)

But now, he’s run out of things to inspect without straight up snooping and he’s still fucking bored. He’s currently laying on his back, spread out an unnecessarily large bed, making every dramatic sound and sigh in his very large collection of ways to get attention in the hopes that Steve will get the hint that he’s bored.

Eventually,he hears footsteps descending the stairs, and he hopes that Steve has finally gotten the hint and comes to rescue him. But instead that traitor picks up his keys and informs a very inconvenienced Eddie that he promised to watch the kids on their outing because their parents were worried. Then just leaves. Leaves!

Look Eddie gets it, the world almost ended and the kids were missing for days. He understands how parents could be worried. But is the safety of their children really worth letting Eddie be bored??

He gets through about 5 minutes of silence before he gives up. Fuck his attempts at being being a polite house guest. He’s gonna snoop. He’s a curious guy, you can't blame him.

Also, may he reiterate, he was bored. This is a very large issue.

Slowly, he creeps up the stairs, calling out Steve’s name to be sure he’s alone. Because if he’s going to invade Steve’s privacy, he’s going to at least do them both the favour of making sure he never finds out.

Eddie goes straight for the back of Steve’s wardrobe, because although he wants to see the juicy shit, he’s a DM, he knows he can;t go straight to the most interesting part.

He almost immediately finds a small plastic container. He opens it to find some pretty ordinary, by Eddie’s standards, contents. A lighter, some rolling paper, and a few empty bags that definitely once contained weed. The typical things a teen would want to hide from his parents, not that Steve really has any reason to these days.

Eddie is about to close the lid and put the box back when he spots something. In the corner of the box is a scrunched piece of paper. He grabs it and flattens it out to reveal a poster with the words “Corroded Coffin” in big bold letters at the top, with the date and time of their first show on it. They were the posters Eddie used to plaster around the school, mostly to piss off the jocks and scare the pearl-clutchers among the faculty.

When he turns the poster to the back, he finds a note scribbled on the back. For a moment Eddie assumes that's why he’d kept the pa[er, because some girl's number was on it. That is quickly disproven when he actually reads the note which reads “Eddie = that hot senior” and below it, in larger handwriting “Go you coward!!!!”

If Eddie suddenly feels the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl with a crush, that's his own business.

#i did not proof read this sorry lol #steddie #pre slash #Eddie's chaotic mind #its ok #we all have undiagnosed ADHD here #eddie munson #steve harrington

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cameron-s-gaskins · 1 month

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Decided to make a Life on Mars/Doctor Who crossover comic, about Sam being the Master, that no one asked for and is about 15 years too late 😂

Chapter 1 is almost done, I’ll hopefully have it posted here and on AO3 in the next week. Thinking of naming it “Sam Tyler Doesn’t Exist.” First chapter will stand alone, but I’ve written a script for a second chapter already. Mostly ignores Ashes to Ashes, and anything after series 4 of Doctor Who.

Gosh!

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treasureguardingdragon · 9 days

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this is my first entry for @bbcmerlin-reversebang or any other fandom event!! it was so fun to make this and get snippits to read as i went along!!

make sure to read the fic here because why wouldn’t you?? its merlin and friendship and space?? government conspiracies and sci fi rebellions?? the futuristic merlin ending we needed??!

here are my art contributions (alongside a cyborg aithusa sketch cause i got carried away)

~~~

the merlin fandom can always use more sci fi fics, and the wonderfully talented just_snakess had all the best ideas from the get go and was so fun to work with (i blame them for encouraging cyborg aithusa and i will never headcanon differently now)

LINK—just in case ppl missed it the first time! summary:

The year is 2372. When King Arthur finally returns, Merlin is on the other side of the solar system, and is helpless to prevent him being swept up by the government.

Thus begins a journey across the solar system, crossing paths with crimelords, rebel leaders, and very, very old friends. Will it be enough to free Arthur? Or will the Once and Future King fall victim to a mysterious plot that threatens the very border between life and death?

#bbc merlin #merlin #merlin bbc #arthur pendragon #merlin emrys #merlin and arthur #gen #pre slash #my art #fic rec #bbc merlin reverse bang #reverse bang #click for better quality #i am excited and terrified that im finally posting this

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sleepy-gee · 4 months

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stay with me - finnick odair/gn!reader fluffmas ao3 link

The Victory Tour being conveniently placed in the holiday season leads to some lonely nights. Thankfully, you're not alone.

pre relationship/very beginning of relationship, mostly plotless just hurt/comfort, more winter themed than christmasy but shh, pre-canon, read on tumblr v or on ao3 (link above ^)

The Victory Tour being conveniently placed in the holiday season leads to some lonely nights. A lot, in fact. Sure, it's just twelve days, but those days conveniently cover both Christmas and New Years. New Year's Eve is funnily enough your last official night of the tour, spent in the Capitol with a glamorous party. Maybe it's supposed to remind you that in the end, you'll always be with them. You can never escape.

The dull hum of the train you're in aggravates you more than anything, spurring on the bitterness and resentment you feel. Being pulled away from all your families and loved ones to only spend it reliving the horrors of the games- The 23 innocent lives lost, rubbing it in their faces that you were alive to celebrate it all while the others were nothing but a pile of dirt and bones now. Some were a pile of ashes, if their family was rich enough for it. You definitely were. The thought made you sick.

Bitterness turned into anxiety, which made itself a nauseous nest in the pit already formed in your stomach. You couldn't stay still. Not for much longer. All you wanted was to go home and run away from it all, hide in your ridiculously fancy house under your ridiculously fancy bedsheets and pray for everything to stop.

But, of course, you couldn't. You had a show to put on. Smile and wave for the adoring crowd- Just be yourself!

The funny part was, you nearly made it out somewhat unscathed- 18 when you were reaped. You had survived 6 years, and had 1 more to go- But your luck ran out. The odds were never in your favor.

You'd puke if you thought about it any longer.

Not able to stay still any longer, you climbed out of your plush bed and grabbed your robe, wrapping the silky material around your shivering body as you crept down the hall into the main room. The resemblance to your own house was a little frightening- You swear you have a lamp in your living room just like the one on your right, lampshade covered in seashells with a soft green light coming from the bulb.

No one else seemed to be awake, which equally relieved and upset you. While you didn't have to explain your jittery demeanor, familiar human contact would've been nice. You plopped yourself down on one of the sofas in the main room and curled up into a small ball, staring into space as you tried to calm yourself down. Everything felt off. Nothing was right.

The sound of a door opening caught your attention, and your heart skipped a beat. Footsteps followed, leading to your location.

".. What're you doing out here?" The low voice of your mentor asked. Finnick Odair. Capitol sweetheart. Everyone everywhere loved him, and he managed to guide you to victory. The two of you were.. Acquaintances before you ended up getting reaped, family friends if you will. "It's four in the morning, and we gotta get up unfortunately early for District Ten." He sat down beside you, patting your head sympathetically.

".. Can't sleep." You rolled over onto your back, head nudging his thigh as you looked up at him. "What're you doing up?"

"I fell asleep a little earlier than intended.. So I kinda screwed up my sleep schedule a bit." Finnick said with a small laugh, looking down at you. "I can see it in your eyes. Something else is up. Talk to me."

You bit your lip. ".. Just a little homesick, is all. I haven't spent the holidays away from my family before.. and technically, I won't see them until next year, so.."

Finnick nodded in understanding. "I get that. It's.. It's hard.." He was choosing his words carefully. You never knew who could be listening in. ".. Spending so much time away from your family. It was hard on me too, I definitely get it.."

".. How did you do it? Get through it all?" A question disguised as another. "How did you move on from the Games? How do you live your life after it's been flipped upside down? How do you move on when the old you is gone? How? How? How?"

"Well.." He ran his fingers through your hair. "I try and focus on the positives. They're hard to find, but they're there. I got to see the world, meet new people, eat a lot of different kinds of food.. Fish gets boring after a while." You chuckled. How did he always have such a way with words? "But the biggest thing I kept in mind was that I was safe, and I'd never have to go through anything like the Games ever again. I had my happily ever after."

You nodded, moving your head to rest on his lap. Finnick was the human equivalent of a space heater, always warm and ready to warm others. It was nice. ".. Thank you."

He smiled. "Don't thank me. Just get some rest, yeah? Got a big day tomorrow, and I need my victor well rested."

“I nearly forgot about that..” You yawned. “Mkay.. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Your eyes flickered shut, and you found yourself lulled to sleep by his fingers gently carding through your hair, keeping you safe for the night.

#the hunger games #thg #thg fic #fanfiction #finnick odair #finnick x reader #finnick x you #thg finnick #pre canon #pre slash #hurt/comfort #ao3 writer #ao3 #12 days of fluffmas #fluffmas 2023

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chenziee · 2 months

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Red

My piece for @lovinglawzine! It's completely free and available to download right now! There's two zines, >SFW< and >NSFW< and both are full of Law love 🤍🐯 (did I mention it's free?)

[ READ ON AO3 | KO-FI | COMM INFO ]

—————

The first time Law noticed the red cord tangled around his little finger, he dismissed it. He was still deathly sick from amber lead, the brutal loss of Cora-san painfully fresh on his mind, and some strange thread couldn’t be anything but a hallucination. After all, he couldn’t even touch it and it didn’t lead anywhere his hazy eyesight could see. What else would it be except something his exhausted mind had made up?

The second time he noticed it, Law accounted it to still not being used to his devil fruit. It was barely the third time he had managed to successfully conjure up a Room—as he had decided to call it—and it was still wonky, still clumsy, still unstable. He couldn’t see any strings on his hand or anywhere else when he wasn’t using his powers so there was no way it was really there.

The third time he noticed it, he inadvertently remembered a story his mom used to tell him and Lammy. A story about a Red String that connected two fated lovers, two people who were of one soul, never to be complete without the other. Soulmates, so to speak. He disregarded the thought immediately for being too unscientific and ridiculous.

The sixth time he noticed it, he decided he had to be losing his mind because now he could see a red string on everyone who entered his Room.

The twentieth time…

The twentieth time he barely even noticed the strings tangling in the snow underneath his feet anymore.

—————

After eleven years with the power of the Op-Op Fruit, Trafalgar Law could confidently say he understood how it worked and what it allowed him to do. He could remove people’s organs without hurting them, he could perform near-impossible surgeries without so much as thinking about it, and he could do whatever he wanted within his Room.

And, despite his best efforts, Law couldn’t ignore that anymore either.

It took a lot of back and forth between Bepo and Penguin’s romantic mindset, and his and Shachi’s more realistic—or jaded, as Ikkaku liked to say—worldview. It took him years but in the end, Law had no choice but begrudgingly admit that his power also allowed him to see the so-called ‘Red String of Fate’, whatever that was.

Strings that weren’t so much red sometimes as they were on a scale between black and gold. Black—dark, charred, and dead—presumably for deceased partners. Red for disconnected strings. Gold for a string that found its other end—the second (or third or last) person sharing this bond. To this day, Law wasn’t sure how much weight he should be giving to it though. He had seen people with strings blood red, yet with wedding rings on their fingers, crying for their beloved wives and husbands while Law cut them in half with morbid fascination, uncaring.

On the other hand, he had encountered people with beautiful gold around their left little fingers… who seemed nothing but happy to meet their demise by Law’s unforgiving hands.

All in all…

Law didn’t care.

Least of all, about the red string that was still securely tied to his own hand.

Honestly, if he could, he would have burned it long ago. And boy, did he try. After all, what use did he have for a ‘fated partner’? What did that even mean? He didn’t know and he didn’t care. The only thing that mattered to him was Cora-san… and Doflamingo.

But, eleven years in, he had long since resigned himself to the thing being there to stay.

Not that it made any difference to him or anyone else.

At least, that was how it was for a long time. How it was supposed to be.

“You guys stay back. I’ll handle this,” Straw Hat Luffy announced as he, Eustass Kid, and Law took their stand in front of the Sabaody human auction house.

“No, you two stay back!” Eustass snapped back—raising to the bait like a child.

Law, on the other hand, stayed perfectly calm. “You tell me what to do one more time and I’m killing you first, Eustass-ya.”

“Just me, Trafalgar?” Eustass asked, shooting Law a look.

Law didn’t bother dignifying that with a response.

Not that there was that much time for chit-chat once the marines surrounding them from all sides broke out of their pathetic stupor and cannons started going off, shooting straight at them.

“Room,” Law said lazily, taking Kikoku out of its long scabbard. Nonchalantly cutting off the head of the nearest marine, Law quickly switched it with the cannonball hurtling at him, then caught the screaming head easily.

As he tossed it in his hand a few times, a smirk playing at his lips, Law wondered… how should he play with these rats? They didn’t have much time before an admiral would be on their asses so he couldn’t get too creative…

“Wow, your power’s weird.”

Law huffed, tilting his head to the side to glance at Straw Hat; there was a look in his eyes that was slightly curious… but mostly completely honest, almost innocent, but with a strange weight behind it that made Law freeze completely just for a second. It was the same weight, same intensity as when he had punched that Celestial Dragon, but at the same time, it felt completely different.

But, before he could decipher it or really think about it, the moment was over.

“Look who’s talking, Straw Hat-ya.” Law huffed in amusement, turning his attention back to the scrambling marines.

He called forth another Room just as Straw Hat dashed past him. Law wanted to roll his eyes at his impatience but then something else caught his eyes—a smudge of red trailing after him, flowing happily in the air as if to mark the path he took.

Inadvertently, Law’s eyes followed the string. He wasn’t sure why; maybe because it basically hit him in the face when he flew past, or maybe because Law hardly ever saw a string that wasn’t dragging on the ground, hardly saw someone with the other end of the sting being close by.

Or maybe, that too was fate.

As he followed the path of the string, Law’s eyes widened once his gaze reached his own hand. His own left little finger, where the other end of the string was tied snuggly… while a gold glitter started to spread around it.

No.

No, that couldn’t be right.

There was no way Law was tied to Straw Hat Luffy.

“You chickening out, Trafalgar?” Eustass called mockingly as he stole the swords out of the hands of the three marines that had attacked Law, the three marines that Law had completely failed to notice in his shock.

At least it’s not this fucking guy, Law thought to himself.

“Shut the fuck up, Eustass-ya,” he snapped back, then sighed deeply.

What was he doing? It didn’t fucking matter if Straw Hat was his ‘soulmate’ or whatever other unscientific, superstitious, childish word he wanted to call this stupid thing.

After all, what did he care? He never cared. Not once.

He had neither the time nor the capacity to waste on pointless ideals like love. He knew what love was. He had received love. And then he lost it, every single time.

His country, his city, his parents, his sister, Cora-san…

He’d lost all of it and now, nothing mattered—nothing but fulfilling Cora-san’s ambition.

Least of all, some reckless idiot in a straw hat with a smile that could blind a person, and passion that could burn down the entire world.

—————

When Law heard about the execution of Portgas D. Ace, he thought nothing of it. He was curious to know how it was going to end: who would win, how the world was going to change, where the delicate balance of power would tilt. He was looking forward to seeing it… but he had no personal interest in it—not in the war, the government, the Whitebeard Pirates, in Fire Fist, or anyone else involved in the fighting.

When Bepo asked him why they were going to Marineford, Law didn’t have an answer for him.

—————

Law was used to operating on people. He was a surgeon, after all. It was what he did.

It was supposed to be routine for him by now.

So why were his hands shaking when he stood above Straw Hat Luffy lying on the operating table, unconscious and bleeding heavily, his life escaping him with every weak breath he took?

Law knew why, but he refused to acknowledge it.

He refused to acknowledge the string hanging between them, the very same string that had changed colour from red to gold just days ago—now slowly turning black. He refused to think about it when he first saw the state Straw Hat was in, he forced himself to ignore it when he first created a Room around them inside the Tang, and he actively turned his eyes away whenever he checked on him while he recovered.

And now, as he sat on the shore of Amazon Lily, clutching the old, tattered straw hat in his hands, he fought with himself trying to not pay attention to the way his left little finger tingled, almost as if the invisible string was strangling its blood flow. Which was ridiculous; the string wasn’t really there, it wasn’t real. Law knew it was only in his head but even so, with every distant scream and every creak and crash of a tree falling, he felt another tug on his hand.

How long had this been going on?

It felt like hours since Straw Hat had woken up—since he started this self-destructive rampage.

At the back of his mind, Law wondered whether this was it. After all the work he had done, after spending two weeks saving his life… Straw Hat was going to kill himself. The thought bothered him more than it should have; his heart was beating at a nervous rhythm, his hands sweating and shaking just the smallest bit, his stomach heavy as if he had swallowed the rocks Straw Hat had shattered with his bare hands earlier.

He hated it. He hated feeling like this just because of a patient.

Clicking his tongue in annoyance, Law forced himself to focus on his surroundings. He let his eyes wander around the bay, taking in Ikkaku and Hakugan checking the outside of the Tang to make sure Straw Hat hadn’t damaged her anywhere, Bepo scribbling out a clumsy map to the side, Jean Bart chatting with Uni and Clione, telling them about his days as a captain of his own crew. They all seemed to be having fun…

It left Law feeling that much more stupid for being so nervous—so scared.

How pathetic.

“Whoa!!”

Law startled at Shachi’s sudden call; inadvertently, he looked his and Penguin’s way—the both of them were looking at the sea just off the shore, pointing and shouting about sea kings fighting. As if that was so strange in the Calm Belt.

Still, Law watched with them as the creature struggled, sending violent waves across the water surface in its pointless fight for dear life. It didn’t stand a chance and for a moment, Law wondered just what kind of monster was out there, and if maybe it was going to turn its eyes on the Heart Pirates next. Not that he was worried—rather, a fight might distract him from his thoughts, and from the pirate who was fighting for his life and sanity behind him; so close, yet so far out of Law’s reach.

It didn’t take long for the fight to end and oppressing silence to settle over them. It was like no one even dared breathe as they waited for something to happen. Something, anything…

Except for what did actually happen.

“What a nuisance…”

Both Law and his crew could only watch in stunned silence as a regular human emerged from the water, climbing up the rocks that made up the Amazon Lily’s shore line as if he had just gone to take a quick dip on a vacation instead of fighting a Neptunian in the middle of the goddamned Calm Belt.

Maybe it wasn’t too much of a stretch to call him a monster anyway.

“D-Dark King Reyleigh?!” Penguin cried, the first one to break out of his stupor.

“Oh, it’s you guys. We met at the Auction House, right?” Dark King noted as he casually wringed water out of his clothes.

“Why—how—?” Clione stuttered.

The Dark King huffed. “My ship sank in a storm so I had to swim the rest of the way. It was more taxing than it should have been, I’m really getting old.”

“Storm?” Penguin repeated. “This is the Calm Belt, just how far did you swim?!”

“Anyway,” Rayleigh said, completely ignoring the question in favour of turning to look directly at Law with an unreadable smile on his face. “I’m assuming Luffy is on this island somewhere, isn’t he?”

The question was so simple… but it was as if lightning ran through Law’s body. His breath hitched in his throat, his heart beating a pace faster, his grip on the straw hat tightening. How did he know? Did the navy know too? Were they safe here? What did he want with Straw Hat?

Law wasn’t stupid. He knew that if the Dark King wanted to kill Luffy—or any of them—there was nothing any one of them could do to stop him. No one on this island was a match for this man.

A beat of silence passed while the two of them eyed each other, before Law took a deep breath and spoke up, voice carefully measured. “And if he is?”

At that, Rayleigh laughed. It wasn’t mocking—a genuine, light laughter, one that finally helped Law relax, knowing that there was no immediate danger from him.

“You’re quite protective of him, I’m glad!” Rayleigh noted after a moment. “I was wondering what the feared Surgeon of Death wanted with Luffy but I see I didn’t have to worry.”

The smile he gave Law this time was so amused, so knowing, that Law suddenly felt incredibly exposed. It was like this man could understand everything about him and Straw Hat, and about Law’s motives; things that even Law himself didn’t know.

He hated the look.

Clicking his tongue in annoyance, Law finally looked away. “He’s here. Unless he manages to reopen his wounds and dies.”

“Wonderful! Thank you for taking care of him. I’ll take over from now on.”

"Why?" Law asked before he could stop himself, or at least try to keep his unfounded hostility out of his voice.

And once again, laughter was his response. "Oh, did you intend to keep Luffy all to yourself?"

Law startled at those words. Suddenly, as if doused in ice-cold water, Law was brought back to reality—the reality where Straw Hat was just some pirate he had barely met once, where Law had his own life, his own mission which allowed for no attachments to anyone or anything.

The reality where he had no reason to stay.

Ignoring the painful pang next to his heart, as well as the sharp tug on his little finger—imaginary, it wasn't real, there was nothing there—, Law gave the hat in his hands one last look before he closed his eyes momentarily and sighed.

“No,” he said simply as he finally stood up to his feet. “Two weeks of absolute rest, minimum.”

The Dark King didn’t say anything for a moment, merely studying Law’s expression as if he was trying to cut into his brain and pick him apart, but before Law could snap at him to stop, the man nodded. “Alright, thank you.”

With no reason to linger anymore, Law tossed the straw hat at Rayleigh, not sparing either him or the hat another glance. “Let’s go.”

“What?!”

“But captain—”

Law cut off his crew’s protests with a single glare, one that made them all deflate and shuffle to the sub without another word of complaint. He could hear Shachi and Penguin whining quietly to each other about having to leave the Maiden Island without even getting to properly talk to a single girl but he ignored them, choosing to focus on their departure.

Briefly, he wondered whether he should have waited to at least say goodbye to Straw Hat… but he knew that if he waited for him, if he had to look into those huge, expressive, beautiful eyes that were so full of energy and passion and life… he wouldn’t be able to say it.

Wouldn’t be able to leave.

And Law knew, he knew he needed to go now.

He had no right to stay by his side, after all—not when Straw Hat was injured, broken, and suffering, not when Law could do nothing about it except stop the physical bleeding. Not when Law himself was already broken, his path set for him since eleven years ago—a path that led to nothing but destruction, and which would have Law leave eventually regardless.

It was better for the both of them like this; to part ways before it was too late.

Before either of them could do something as stupid as falling in love was.

—————

That was two years ago. During that time, Law had managed to forget about Straw Hat Luffy—forced himself to pretend he didn’t see the golden string on his left hand, to act like he didn’t know who it led to. Focusing on his mission, on Joker, Law lived his life without looking back at those eyes and bright smile.

But now, Straw Hat Luffy was standing in front of him in the snow of Punk Hazard, bright and beautiful and oh-so-warm and Law…

Law knew.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to pretend anymore.

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